


Beginnings

by lamardeuse



Series: The Declarative Case [2]
Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-03
Updated: 2012-08-03
Packaged: 2017-11-11 09:18:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/476991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lamardeuse/pseuds/lamardeuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which James wakes up sober, remembers he snogged his boss, and panics, as you do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Sarren for beta and Britpick. Any remaining errors are mine.

It took James approximately two and a half seconds after he awoke the next morning to remember what he'd done the night before. This was followed by a sharp-edged four seconds of panic – _you snogged him, you snogged Robbie Lewis, what were you thinking, you weren't that bloody drunk –_ punctuated by a brief reprieve when he remembered that Lewis had snogged him back.

However, James being – well, James – it wasn't long before he'd overthought everything and managed to cycle right back to panic again. Not one moment of last night had gone according to plan. Oh yes, James had a plan – he'd developed it months ago, after Laura had convinced him it wasn't entirely daft to think that he had a chance. The first steps involved keeping in touch with Lewis after he retired, finding ways to spend time with him, watching a game together down the pub or going out for a meal now and then. Pub nights would progress to nights in – James would cook for him, God knew Lewis ate far too much takeaway and ready meals – and sooner or later, Lewis would realise he was being courted. And then – well, that would be up to Lewis, but James had rather hoped that by then he would have come to see the idea wasn't entirely daft, either.

But none of that was going to happen now, because last night James had decided to throw a perfectly brilliant plan straight down the crapper and jump the man who meant more to him than anyone as though he were a random one night stand. And this morning Lewis was doubtless appalled at the events of last night and was planning to run screaming at the first opportunity. He'd find a way to let James down as compassionately as possible – he was still Robbie Lewis, after all – but the outcome would be the same. As soon as James rang him – no, he'd do it face to face, kinder that way – Lewis would call it quits, and that, as they say, would be that.

James briefly considered calling in sick to work – it wasn't as though it mattered any longer – then shook himself and stood. At least he could accomplish something today.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After scanning his letter, Innocent studied him for a long time before speaking. James manfully resisted the urge to squirm like a bug under her relentless scrutiny.

"I can't say that I'm not disappointed,” she said finally. “Losing one of my best detectives is bad enough, but losing both of them in one week –” James' eyes widened at the compliment “– oh, don't bloody look at me as though you're _surprised_ that you two are the best, Sergeant.”

James' mouth curved, and Innocent lifted her gaze heavenward before continuing. “At any rate, while I'm disappointed, I can't say I'm completely shocked. Partnerships like yours and Robbie's come round once in a blue moon, and when they do, it's never quite the same when one or both of them move on. I can see why you'd feel that nothing else would measure up. I wish you'd reconsider, but I know it's a futile hope. You're a stubborn one when your mind's made up.”

James lifted his chin, conceding his flaw. “I'm sorry, ma'am.”

"I take it you've made plans for your future.”

_I had_ , James thought, then reminded himself that probably wasn't what she meant. “Yes, ma'am. I'm starting at Oxford Brookes in a couple of months. Masters in social work.”

"Well, we won't call this good-bye, then,” Innocent said, “as we might be seeing you in a different capacity one of these days.”

"No, ma'am. I mean, yes, ma'am.”

Innocent raised an eyebrow at him. “You're uncharacteristically deferential, Hathaway.”

"Perhaps I'm only relieved you haven't decided to have my guts for garters.”

Innocent chuckled lowly at that, in a way that convinced James it had occurred to her at some point in the conversation. “I know you've the afternoon off. I'll set up a handover meeting for you in the morning with the person I choose to take your cases.”

James rose to his feet as she did and extended his hand. “Thank you,” he said, meaning it.

To his shock, Innocent took his hand in both of hers, an almost maternal gesture. “I wish you every happiness, James. Truly.”

James swallowed and nodded, and she released him with a small smile.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Laura poked her head in as he was shutting down his computer. “Well, at least you're still in one piece,” she drawled, checking him over.

"Barely,” James rasped. It had occurred to him a few minutes ago that he'd forgotten to ring Lewis about lunch. It was nearly noon, but try as he might he couldn't make himself pick up the phone.

Laura cocked her head at him. “What's wrong?”

Hathaway ran a hand through his hair. “I don't even know how to begin to answer that.”

Frowning, she turned and closed the door to the office, then perched on the edge of the desk and folded her arms, her expression expectant.

James sighed. “He came to see me last night. And I – I kissed him.”

"And? Did he flee screaming?”

"No,” James admitted.

"That's wonderful news! Congratulations.”

James shook his head. “There's nothing to congratulate me for.”

Laura frowned. “Are you going to see him today?”

"I'm supposed to take him to lunch, where I'm sure he's going to turn me down.”

"How on earth do you know that?” Laura demanded. James only pursed his lips in response, and Laura sighed. “For heaven's sake, I know it's your habit to look on the gloomy side of bloody everything, but try to be optimistic for once.”

"I do so cherish our heart to hearts,” James drawled.

Laura nudged at his knee with her foot. “Ring him, now. Or better yet, go see him. Talk to him.”

James stood up with a grunt. “Good idea. I didn't fancy having him reject me in a public place.”

Laura placed a gentle hand on his arm, halting his progress towards the door. “James,” she murmured, “just because it looks like he can't move on doesn't mean that deep down, he doesn't _want_ to move on. He might need a push, though – or two, or three.”

James stared at her, and she flushed slightly under the scrutiny. It wasn't lost on him that this was an insight she might have lacked back when she and Lewis were doing their odd, sterile mating dance. That she was generous enough to give him the benefit of her hindsight was something he'd never have expected of her a year ago, but he'd gained a new understanding of her lately that had left him regretful of the way he'd sometimes treated her. Jealousy was a failing he'd tried in vain to eradicate in himself; no matter how often he'd tried to throw the two of them together, it had still stung to see them growing closer. He wanted Lewis' happiness above all, then and now, but the thought that that happiness might lie in his own hands was suddenly a terrifying responsibility.

Laura smiled and squeezed his arm, as if sensing his train of thought. “Don't lose your momentum now. You did a very brave thing last night.”

"Inspired by whisky.”

Laura sighed. “Then stop by the pub on your way to Robbie’s if you must.” She shook him a little before letting him go, then smiled at him and shoved him none too gently toward the door. “Honestly, you men. If it were left up to you, the species would die out.”

James backed toward the door. “If you're counting on Lewis and me to propagate the species, you must have missed an important class somewhere, Doctor.”

Laura pointed an imperious finger. “Go!”

James went, smirking.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lewis answered the door with a sour look on his face that faded the moment he saw James.

"Sorry,” James said immediately, “I should have rung you.”

One corner of Lewis’ mouth lifted. “I'm a bit out of practice with this sort of thing. Was beginning to think I was being jilted.” He searched James’ face, then added, “Am I being jilted?”

"Do you want to be?” James blurted.

Lewis’ expression softened. “Ah, lad, come in,” he murmured, stepping back to let James in. James hesitated for a moment before accepting the invitation. He noted that Lewis was wearing jeans and a casual shirt open a little at the collar, as though he’d been ready to go to lunch. To go on a date.

Silently, Lewis reached into the fridge, pulled out two beers, opened them and handed one to James. As though they’d pre-arranged it, they moved to sit on the couch.

"Listen,” Lewis began, “I’m sorry if I seemed a bit stunned last night. I’d never thought about it before. I mean, well –” Lewis shot him a rueful look “–I shouldn’t say never. It had crossed me mind once or twice, back when we were working on the Will MacEwan case. I was curious, I suppose. But there were a hundred reasons why trying it on with you wasn’t a good idea, so I never seriously considered it.”

James nodded dumbly, trying to mask his staggering astonishment at the fact that Lewis had thought about it at all. He swallowed. “And now?” he ventured.

Lewis leaned back against the couch. “Since I’m officially retired today, I suppose there are only ninety-nine.”

James took a long drink of his beer. He couldn’t taste it. Well, that was that, then. “I’m sorry.” He set the bottle down on the table and made to stand, but Lewis’ hand on his arm stopped him. Reluctantly, he met Lewis’ steady gaze.

"You know how many reasons there are as well as I do, lad, and you still wanted it enough to give it a go last night. I still don’t know why on earth you’d want to, but – I’m not saying no.”

As James blinked at him, too gobsmacked to think of any reply, Lewis continued. “I lay awake thinking for quite a while last night,” Lewis said, his thumb idly stroking James’ arm through the thin cloth of his shirt. “Didn’t do me any good. And I couldn’t make heads or tails of it this morning.”

James opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Lewis continued. “So I decided to quit thinking so bloody hard. You seem to have this thing figured out for both of us.”

James barked a startled laugh. “I really don’t. I had a – erm, a plan –”

Lewis smiled fondly. “That sounds like you.”

"But last night I buggered it all up. I wasn’t planning to – kiss you then. And I didn’t expect…” He trailed off, at a loss.

"That I’d kiss you back?” Lewis said softly. His gaze lowered to James’ mouth as he said it, and James’ heart thudded almost painfully against his ribs.

"I was a little stunned, too,” James murmured, leaning closer.

Eyes still on James, Lewis set down his beer bottle, angled his body toward James. “Doing better today?”

"Much,” James whispered, closing the remaining distance between them.

The kiss started out slowly, a cautious testing of limits, and then Lewis' hand tightened on his arm and his tongue swept across James' lower lip, and James tossed caution right out the window. Groaning, he tilted his head and opened to Lewis, who cupped James' face in his blunt-fingered hands and deepened the kiss without hesitation. That was Lewis all over, James thought dazedly; once he'd made up his mind to do a thing, he followed it through to the end, and to hell with anything that got in his way. Imagining all that dogged determination focused on him was enough to make James shiver.

"All right?” Lewis rasped, pulling back. His lips were slick and his cheeks were even ruddier than usual, and James thought _I did that_ and then promptly forgot how to breathe for a moment.

Unable to trust his voice, James nodded. On impulse, he turned his head to kiss Lewis’ palm where it still cradled his face. Lewis swept a thumb over his lips, gaze darkening. His free hand slid to the back of James’ neck and tugged him closer, and James went eagerly, sighing into Lewis’ mouth. James’ own hands roamed over Lewis’ chest, his shoulders, down to his hips, back up his sides, luxuriating in finally having permission to touch. Before he knew what he was doing, he had begun undoing the buttons on Lewis’ shirt.

"Thought you were buying me lunch,” Lewis panted, though he did nothing to stop James’ busy hands.

"Are you hungry?” James asked. He ran a finger down Lewis’ sternum; his chest hair was thicker than he’d expected, softer. He wanted to trace Lewis’ collarbone with his tongue.

Lewis’ answer was a gasp, because James had leaned forward and done just that. His hands flew to James’ head, fingers threading through his hair. Head still bent to his task, James grabbed fistfuls of Lewis’ shirt and tugged it free of his jeans, then loosened the remaining buttons and laid his shirt wide open. Nuzzling his way downward, he kissed one nipple, then drew it into his mouth, suckling lightly.

"Jesus,” Lewis gusted, his fingers tightening almost convulsively. James felt as though he were drowning in possibility; he could slide his hand down, touch Lewis _anywhere_ , and Lewis would let him. Lewis arched under James’ mouth as James sucked harder –

– and then Lewis’ stomach let out a loud rumble.

For a moment both of them froze, and then Lewis sagged back onto the couch, his belly trembling with his laughter. “Sorry. How’s that for a romance killer, eh?”

James pressed his cheek to Lewis’ chest and wrapped his arms round his middle, his own laughter mingling with Lewis’. _I love you_ , he thought, _I love you so much_ , and Lewis stroked his hair as though he’d heard the words in James’ head.

"I did promise you lunch,” James said, lifting his head.

"That you did.” Lewis was flushed and smiling, and it was all James could do to keep himself from diving back in again. But he’d waited this long, and even though he’d declared himself, there was a certain appeal in taking his time with this. It was too important to rush.

Of course, seeing the man laid out before him, aroused and dishevelled, was also appealing. Not to mention nearly irresistible.

With a grunt, Lewis made to sit up, and James pulled back to allow him room. “I’ll - erm, be needing a fresh shirt,” he muttered. James bit his lip to keep from smiling at the pathetic excuse; the truth was, they both could do with a moment alone to compose themselves. “Back in a tick.”

James watched him go, his normally self-assured walk clearly a bit on the wobbly side, and let himself appreciate the view of what he’d always suspected was a rather well-preserved arse.

When Lewis returned a couple of minutes later, James was still grinning.

"What’s so bloody funny?” Lewis said. He proffered his hand and James took it, letting Lewis haul him upright.

James only continued to smile at him, and after a moment Lewis rolled his eyes and jerked his head. “Come on, then.” He turned to go, but James tugged on his hand to hold him back. Lewis looked up at him, exasperated and fond, and James thought that perhaps not everything had changed between them.

Lewis reached up and smoothed James’ hair back in place. “You’re too tall, bonny lad,” he grumbled.

"I know,” James said happily, leaning down for a brief, chaste kiss before he let Lewis pull him forward.

 


End file.
